


Sinner’s Pit

by Xobit



Category: Transformers Animated (2007)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-31
Updated: 2012-07-31
Packaged: 2017-11-11 03:09:03
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,440
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/473843
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Xobit/pseuds/Xobit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Low cast mechs never get to raise a sparkling but that doesn’t mean they don’t want to…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sinner’s Pit

* * *

**Past**

* * *

_Name: Optimus_

_Occupation: Chassis artisan_

_Living accommodation: Apartment in lower Iacon_

_Relationship status: Single_

“Why are you even trying, Ops?” Optimus looked up at his friend and roommate. The brightly colored Rodimus was curled up on the couch looking sad. He knew it was for him, and he smiled, or tried to, reassuringly at the other.

“I have to try. I want a family… and I am able to support a sparkling.” He swallowed around the lump in his throat tubing and ignored the pang of longing that pulled at his spark. 

“It will be vorns before they even look at your application.” The statement made his spark contract again, he almost wanted to lash out at his sparklinghood friend. Almost. 

The thing was that Rodimus was right. He was almost certain that he wouldn’t be allowed a sparkling, no matter if it was an Allspark Creation or a Vector Sigma one. And it did not seem likely that he would find a Decepticon that would want to breed with an Autobot as low in the hierarchy as he was. As they were, Rodimus wanted a little one just as badly as he did. 

They had been born low and they would stay low, likely stay sparklingless too. 

But he had to try… 

Just once!

Shaking his head silently he smiled, grimaced, painfully at Rodimus and bent back down over the datapad with the long, complicated form he had to fill out.

* * *

“You knew they would say no…” Rodimus did not sound gloating, he sounded pained. Optimus just nodded, holding the pad in his hands wondering why he had even bothered to try…

_We regret to inform you that no sparklings are available to fill your request._

Such a short sentence to have such impact.

* * *

**Now**

* * *

“Tickets!” Rodimus jumped up and down on the lower floor of the beauty salon and waved something shiny over his helmet while squealing like a youngling on a candy energon high. 

“I got them! I _got_ them! WE WON!” All along the balcony of the first and second floor of the saloon faces appeared to peer down at the seemingly insane mech. For a long moment the saloon was silent only faint echoes of the squealing bouncing from wall to wall in the cavernous main atrium. 

The all Pit broke loose. 

Rodimus was soon the center of a swarm of excited beauticians, squealing and waving their hands about in a glittering flutter of joy. The small mechs were all lithe and well maintained, their armor sporting examples of their work so that customers could choose the beautician or chassis artisan they wanted. 

Optimus was right there, and threw his glitter dusted arms about his sparklinghood friend with a squeal to match Rodimus' own. They were going to Sinner’s Pit! 

They had not believed they would win the competition their favorite holoshow station had announced, but there had been no harm in attempting it. They had both sent in the answers to the quiz and then put it out of processor. But now Rodimus had won! And they were going to the grand reopening of the most fabulous night club in Iacon… He sort of felt like fainting. 

Sinner’s Pit had always been the ‘in’ place, it had been closed for roughly two groons now as the owner was refurbishing all of it. And the grand reopening would be the party of the vorn… of vorns to come! And they were going! 

Oh Primus! What were they going to wear?! 

Soon enough Kup came out and the noise level died down, everyone drifting back to their work stations ever so slowly to get the last things ready for opening time. Kup was kind and generous, but still a business mech.

He did pull both Optimus and Rodimus aside to tell them they could borrow anything they wanted to wear to the club.

* * *

“Do you really think he meant it?” Rodimus and Optimus both were out of customers and cleaning up after the light cycles work when the flame colored, gold-dusted, etching artist asked his question.

“Kup? I am sure he meant it! I mean… we have to look good, right? And we’ll be walking commercials for him if someone asks us who made our outfits and decorations.” Optimus shrugged and bit his lower derma to try and keep his bubbling urge to squeal in. 

“We have to make sure we’re not too gaudy, or too plain. Maybe we should go with a costume look? I mean, it is supposed to be a costume ball of sorts.” They exchanged a glance and both of them squealed happily, as if they were much younger than they really were. 

It was a chance unlike any other, a chance they couldn’t have dared to hope for. To be seen by the elite, the Decepticon rulers of Cybertron. Optimus shivered a little and tried hard to ignore the tug on his spark. There was no telling if their chance would prove fruitful! They might end up the laughing stock of the grand reopening, after all. But the small tiny chance that a Decepticon might take a fancy to one of them, or both of them… 

No, they had to take the offered chance and do their very best to look appealing and worthy. Not that he knew how to do the last. 

“You should dress up as exotic slaves, matching pair! You set off each other so well already.” Jazz’ voice broke though his thoughts, high and excited. 

“Isn’t that the wrong image… oh, wait! You mean dressed up in fabrics and such?” Rodimus clasped his hands together in front of his chest plates and bounced up and down. Optimus rather liked that idea too… Maybe they could add some inlay work in their arms that made them match each other more closely. 

“I like that, we should do some inlayed etchings too… but not something garish, just, you know, tastefully and in each other’s colors.” Rodimus nodded, optics brightening, and Optimus knew he was already reviewing ideas. 

“I think that Bumblebee has some fabrics we could use…” Jazz trailed off, his optics turning dim even as he looked them both up and down. “Maybe we should stick to loin cloths, you have mostly the same build, and inlay etchings from shoulder to hands?” 

“Sounds awesome, if we can find something that suites us both.” Rodimus agreed readily, Jazz and Bumblebee were the top clothing designers at Kup’s place. Optimus was not far behind in nodding his approval, glad that they would be able to work on an etching design on their own. Something just them… they could do something unique and even if nobody liked them maybe they could boost their earnings and Kup’s fame. It was possible, more possible then the other dream. 

“Come on you two! We have three joors and we have to work in between that too.” Jazz’ dragged them off for the second floor, and Bumblebee’s fabric covered lair.

* * *

“Don’t pull on that!” Rodimus battered Optimus’ hand away from the delicate chain holding his sheer red loin cloth in place, then the flame colored mech did the same and Optimus had to batter his hand away. Wearing items of clothing was for the upper classes, not low class mechs like they were. 

“Do you have the ticket?” Rodimus sounded as nervous as he felt. Mutely, Optimus showed him the gold colored datapad. They had been picked up by a nice mech and escorted to a transport… and what a transport! The softest mesh fabric covered form fitting seats, there was a small bar section and the interior could have held mechs ten times their size. In fact, their pedes were dangling above the flooring right now. 

They arrived in style, and the nice mech that had driven the transport handed them off to a waiting bouncer who ushered them to another bouncer for a check of their tickets and then though the VIP doors and into Sinner’s Pit. 

Optimus’ hand found Rodimus’ and they clung to each other. The place was huge, and filled with huge mechs who were dancing and drinking energon and talking. Rather daunting when you were small, delicately built, and so low on the proverbial food chain that you had barely heard of most of these celebrities, corporate leaders, and holo stars. 

“Don’t worry, little ones, I’m gonna take you to the Green Lounge,” The bouncer rumbled, something between amusement and pity in his voice as he gently pushed them forward. 

The Green Lounge proved to be a set of rooms with a water theme. They were quiet and seemingly dedicated to more private conversations, the music was low and seductive, the bar hidden, and the dance floor provokingly, intimately small. 

Their bouncer got them settled, with drinks, telling them everything was of course on the house and suggesting that they stay out of the main room, the so called ‘Pit’. Optimus tended to agree and Rodimus seemed of the same processor. There was still plenty of places they could go, that apparently was why the bouncer had brought them here, it was the center of the night club, all other rooms lead into the Green Lounge. 

They stayed there, quite prominently displayed though they did not notice it much, drinking a couple of unfamiliar but delicious drinks before they decided to be adventurous. Taking off down a random path they soon found themselves in a noisy dance room filled with dancers and glitter. They left it again quickly, finding another hallway, and literally stumbled into a place even more quiet then the Green Lounge. 

The décor was all creams and pastels, with hollows sunk into the flooring. Each hollow contained a table and comfortable looking inbuilt chairs. Waiters scuttled around the hollows making sure that the inhabitants of them had all they might want or need. 

Moving into the strange room, they looked around with some nervousness. Optimus almost jumped when Rodimus elbowed him in the side, but obediently followed the finger that pointed up. He literally lost the ability to vent for a moment. 

The room's soft light was explained by the stars displayed above though some sort of immense glasssteel bubble. The only real lighting fixtures used were guidance strips in the flooring, for the waiters mostly, and the soft dim light contained in the hollows.

Optimus uttered a small cry of fright when something encircled his right ankle, preventing him from taking another step. 

“My… what a lovely vision.” The deep voice wasn’t in the least drunk and the dark red optics that met Optimus’ blue ones were not glassy either. Swallowing nervously, he tried tugging his ankle free and was rewarded with a lazy, sexy, smile that showed off fangs, and a caress from the fingers trapping him. 

“Please let me go?” If his voice was a little breathless, who could blame him? The Decepticon was huge, and quite scary when seen up close. Quite sexy, too… far too sexy for his little low cast Autobot spark. 

“I will if you promise to have a drink with me.” The rumble was so self-assured, as if the owner did not for a second doubt he could get his little captive to do whatever he wanted. The red gaze moved to glance at Rodimus and the smile grew a little.

“Galvatron and I have been looking for company all dark cycle, you would not deny us the pleasure of such a pair of pretties as you two?” Optimus opened his mouth but halted, processor going blank when the claw tipped fingers moved up to deliver deadly caress to his knee joint. His legs almost buckled. 

“Uh…” Rodimus clung to him, the small noise the flame colored mech made telling him that his friend was as unsure about this as he was. 

“I-I guess we could stay for a drink?” If the smile had been feral before Optimus had no clue what to label it now… other then dangerously sexy. 

“Remember your promise, lovely one.” The hand was slow to let go but that was okay, Optimus knew he wouldn’t have been standing still if it wasn’t for Rodimus, and he could feel his friend trembling against him. Neither of them were capable of running out on the ‘promise’ he had made for them.

The as of yet nameless Decepticon shifted and tapped his claws against the rim of the hollow, it immediately morphed into a stair, though the steps were far too big for them to get down by in any comfortable way. Their audience didn’t seem to mind that they had to wiggle and hop down… 

When Optimus looked up again he realized that his ‘captor’ actually had a companion and that the hollow might be big for Rodimus and him but wasn’t in the least little bit big when occupied by two handsome and powerful Decepticons that lounged on the form fitting seats. The purple mech, Galvatron?, leaned forward, wearing a predatory grin as feral as that of the first mech’s, but his red optics were locked on Rodimus.

“And can we have your names, pretty ones? Since my brother, Megatron by the way, already introduced me, I think it only fair to complete the exchange…” Frag, by all that was holy… Could either one of them do something that wasn’t sexy? Optimus swallowed hard and looked down to gather courage. 

“Optimus, sir… and this is my friend Rodimus.” Biting his lower derma he studiously looked at his pede tips and therefore did not see the hand reaching for him. It was huge and still tipped with those dangerous claws and when it oh-so-gently lifted his chin he felt himself tremble.

“I cannot believe that such beauty has gone unnoticed! You must tell me where your home tower is, lovely one.” Optimus didn’t know what that meant but he was pretty sure that it had to do with the higher casts of Autobots. 

“I’m sorry, sir, I’m not from any tower… I, we… Rodimus won tickets for this event via the Star holo network.” The Decepticons would probably lose interest now, and that was a good thing right? “We are chassis artisans from mid-Iacon.” 

If it was such a good thing why did his spark contract painfully?

“Is this really true? Such beauty among the lower casts… what good fortune that you should be here this of all nights.” The Decepticon did not sound, nor look, the least bit disgusted. If anything he looked more intrigued as he let go of Optimus and waved a hand casually to gain the attention of a waiter. 

“What will it be, lovely one?” Couldn’t he just stop with the pet names? Biting his lower derma again, Optimus shyly shook his head.

“I don’t know most of what is served here… Um, could I trouble you to choose for me, sir?” He might have been nervous if he had been watching the red optics and had seen the glint in them. 

“But of course! I will have to insist that you stop with the ‘sir’ though.” Megatron ordered something from the waiter called ‘white thunder’ and the gestured to the seat he was stretched out on. 

“Have a seat, lovely one.” Optimus opticked the inbuilt chair skeptically, not only was it made to accommodate mechs of the Decepticon’s size but it was very occupied at the moment. There were only the two seats in the hollow, so he did not have much of a choice unless he wanted to stand. He was only vaguely aware that Rodimus was speaking to the other mech, Galvatron, in a low murmur. 

“I have a name… and I can’t get up on that without crawling.” The half snap was born out of nerves, not true annoyance, and he slapped a hand over his mouth as soon as he realized what he had said, optics going wide. 

“So you do, Optimus, but I can’t see anything wrong in complimenting someone as delicately pretty as you.” The rumble was unbearably amused and he flushed hotly, wishing that he was better at this…

“I am… not used to compliments.” Moving closer to the seated mech he tried to figure out where he could crawl up and seat himself…

“I can see that, it is a great shame… perhaps I should let my soldiers hunt among the lower casts, we certainly seem to have missed a few gemstones.” Optimus shivered at the word ‘hunt’ wondering what the mech meant with that and wishing it didn’t make interesting and exciting images pop up in his processor. Large hands closed around his waist and he yelped when he was lifted off his pedes and set down on a silver hip. 

When his drink came he about guzzled it, much to the Decepticon’s amusement, the second one went the same way and the world got decidedly soft around the edges. 

They did talk, he wasn’t sure what about. Around his fifth White Thunder he was sobbing against the large mech’s chest, not at all sure why but still feeling comforted by the gentle petting and the rumbling growl of the Decepticon’s voice he could feel in the warm chest. 

After the sixth drink he was in a world of soft static. Everything was fuzzy, dim. Fuzzy and nice… fuzzy and kissing… caressing… 

Things moved both slow and fast, he remembered questions that he probably, maybe, answered, and only one thing stood out quite clearly.

“Frag… how did you manage to stay untouched?” Optimus giggled at the words, dim unfocused optics trying to lock on Megatron between his widely spread legs. Mmm, the Decepticon looked so sexy… scary and clawed and fanged and sexy. He giggled again when the larger mech rumbled dangerously and then cried out when the shape fangs nipped his valve rim, oooh… felt so good!

The fuzz descended again, this time liberally accentuated by pleasure, processor blowing pleasure.

* * *

“Ow…” Processor spinning Optimus tried to move and whined when his pelvic informed him that it was not appreciative of that endeavor. A moan answered him, Rodimus’ voice sounding heavy and just as pained as his own. 

Eventually getting upright, Optimus looked around and bit his lower derma nervously. The room was expansive and so was the berth they were occupying… sort of. It was so huge one could hardly say they were occupying it, the finest of mesh covering crumbled up and dirty. He had a pretty good idea what the dry flacks were, his pelvic confirming that notion with more twings of pain. 

“We have got to get out of here!” Rodimus whimper broke though his own stunned lack of thoughts and he nodded helplessly. They really had to get away from here, Primus… they must have acted like cheap little pleasure’bots. Panic rose and that was probably what propelled them out of the berth, though an ultra quick clean up and out of the club. 

They didn’t talk about it, what was there to say? Meeting Decepticons, their last ‘hope’, and they had managed to make complete and utter whores of themselves… As if their statues had not put them at enough of a disadvantage. 

Once they got home, they nursed each other though the worst of the soreness and the panic and then restarted their lives from where they had started out three orns ago. Nothing had changed! 

They were questioned, of course, but that was easily quelled with a few small half truths. Kup had reaped some benefit from them too, apparently, because business picked up. Rodimus and Optimus shrugged it off, certain that it was just because they had been shown on the holo network as attending the grand reopening. By carefully not spoken agreement neither one of them saw anything from it. They did not particularly want to know who Megatron and Galvatron actually were. 

Clue number one stomped, literally, into Kup’s place and growled at a random intimidated little beautician that he wanted an etch tattoo. He was promptly pointed towards the second balcony and came stomping up the ramp like a bullet train. He actually was an engine alt, and far too huge to sit in any chair that the salon could offer. 

The Deception solved that problem by sitting down, noisily, and presenting the beautician, luckily not Optimus, with his left arm and shoulder. It was the most harrowing experience that Bluestreak had ever had. The Decepticons, Astrotrain, had refused to have his sensor nodes numbed and kept talking about things that the young low cast Praxian didn’t know about. He did tip very generously and praised the tattoo and Bluestreak’s ‘light touch’ highly. 

Astrotrain came back, more than once, and often dragging with him a new mech. Not all of them came to get pampered, either, and one time a small scuffle broke out when a large freighter alt got a little too chummy with a nervous Bluestreak. 

Not one of the low cast mechs that worked at Kup’s place understood what the two huge mechs were yelling at each other, but it all ended with the train engine alt landing his fist in the freighter alt’s face plates, breaking his olfactory array. Astrotrain proceeded to ask Bluestreak out and just about strutted out of the salon when he had gotten his squeaked ‘yes’. 

That was a storming and happy romance though it most definitely had its ups and downs. It reached its conclusion about a groon after the whole nightclubs debacle with a very dazed Bluestreak coming to work and announcing that he was bonded. To a Decepticon…

Neither Rodimus nor Optimus was able to feel anger at the small Praxian, but both of them were by now carrying a secret that they did not know what to do with. Literally carrying. Rodimus had discovered it first, having been unable to hold certain types of energon and starving all the time. Optimus had been constantly nauseous but had chalked it up to nerves and not… the impossible. 

But it seemed the impossible had happened and they were going to get their wish albeit in a manner neither of them was too happy about. For one thing, they were carrying at the same time, for another they had told no one of their drunken escapade… and lastly they had no way of alerting their one time lovers of their impending Creatorhood. 

The last also had the question of whether or not they should attempt to figure out a way? 

As it turned out they could have saved worrying. 

oOo

“Where is Optimus?” Optimus jerked back from the Decepticon who’s arm he was doing an inlay pattern on and stared out the open door to his work space. The voice was eerily familiar, so familiar he hardly noticed the near panic on the face plate of the deception he had been working on. 

The large mech had barely gotten, clumsily, to his pedes when an even larger one bent down and entered the now crowded work space. 

“M-my Lord.” His customer bowed and kept his helmet down, making Optimus swallow nervously and sending his spark thrumming with fear. ‘My lord?’. 

“Out!” The roar was barely out before the smaller Decepticon made a mad scramble to get past his ‘lord’ and away.

“You have lead me a merry chase, lovely one.” The tone was lower now, but still not particularly friendly. 

“I suppose I can call my twin now and tell him I have found his mate-to-be too?” The sardonic matter-of-fact way it was said completely robbed Optimus of his voice. 

“I must admit that I admired you ability to get out of Sinner’s Pit without one single mech taking notice when I had ordered them to detain you both and explain that we had been called away!” The anger in both the crimson optics and the voice had Optimus pressed against the wall, a whimper caught in his vocalizer. 

“What? Nothing to say for yourself.” A scoff and displeasure that made the low cast mech flinch and flush hot. “Did you two have a good laugh on our behalf? Did you enjoy stringing us along… was it as… Optimus?” Optimus would have liked to respond, the voice had become entirely different upon saying his name. Caring, concerned… Unfortunately he was busy being worried for his sparkling and about how the floor was moving awfully close all of a sudden…

* * *

Soft? That was odd; he distinctly remembered hitting something hard and unforgiving. Optimus shifted, muttering a soft protest when someone prevented him from turning on his side. 

“You cannot turn; the monitor equipment needs you to lie still.” That woke the young mech up, he attempted to sit up but a firm hand on his upper chest plates easily prevented that. Finally onlining his optics, he looked into kind blue optics set in a softly rounded face plate.

“Who…” His optics wandered to the left of the stranger and his voice got strangled as he saw gossamer thin curtains of mesh fabric that clung to bed pillars that looked to be plated with electrum. He reset his optics at that and jerked his head back at the soft chuckle the reaction got from the stranger. 

“I am First Aid, medic for the protector cast… the Decepticons? I am checking on your sparkling, can I ask the name of your medic now that you are online?” The Decepticons? Why was he working on him then, he was hardly one of them… in fact he had one of them royally pissed off on him. 

“I don’t… have one.” Which was a polite way of saying that a low cast Autobot only got to a medic if he was already sick or bleeding out. Of course he had enough to pay for a medic, but his Carrying cycle was illegal, he had no data to back up his claim of Creator… nothing but a name. 

“Oh my! Oh… Please, let me be your medic then?” The way the young medic’s face plates lit up was about the furthest away from what reaction he might have expected, and the words only rivaled that. His shocked confusion must have shown, for First Aid flushed hotly and ducked a little, biting at his lover derma plates. 

“Forgive me… I shouldn’t be so presumptuous as to ask something like that.” 

“Presumptuous about what?” The deep voice was lower and far softer than last time he had heard it, and still it made Optimus' spark quail with fear. It seemed to have somewhat the same effect on First Aid, who jumped up nervously. 

“My lord! Oh… I just, um… your mate has no personal medic to attend him and I-I was…” He hadn’t thought it possible but the medic flushed even hotter and looked about to melt from embarrassment.

“I see no wrong in you attending to him, if that is what he wishes.” Megatron… The large mech parted the thin curtains on the other side of the berth and sat down on the edge. He looked… unreadable. 

“Can I talk to him in private, or do you need more readings?” 

“Oh no, my lord! I have all the data I need now… the little one is stable again and so is your mate, but he needs rest and good energon.” First Aid smiled at him, a sparkbreakingly hopeful expression in his wide blue optics, and removed the pads that had been placed on his chest and abdominal plating. 

“Good cycle, my lords.” He left fast and discreetly, leaving Optimus in an uncomfortable and tense environment. 

“It seems like I owe you an apology, lovely one.” Megatron looked at him and then away, dragging one large black hand down his handsome face plate. He seemed… well, he seemed to be as uncomfortable as Optimus. 

“I assumed things that I should not have… It never occurred to me that you could think yourself… below me. Your friend… explained some of it.” And awkward. He did not remember the mech as being awkward or at a loss for words. 

“You see… I am not used to being thwarted, neither of us are!, and when you both disappeared without a trace other then the name of your work place... We sent Decepticons to you! And you did not react at all! What were we to think…” A scowl marred the thin dermas for a moment and then morphed into a frown, hands falling to lie on silver thighs. 

Silence ranged, heavy and ominous, making Optimus want to squirm or cry or… anything just to break it, though he really hardly dared to vent or intake air. 

“Please say something?” He jumped and squeaked, shivering with fright at a sudden light touch to his hand. Had he really been that long gone? It seemed so, because he had not even noticed Megatron move closer. 

“I know I wronged you with my accusations… I know it is possible that it is too much to forgive, but at least let me take care of you, of you both?” Desperation, honest desperation shone from red optics that were a little too bright. What did this mech have to be desperate about?

“I don’t understand?” It was all he had to offer. He watched as Megatron vented air in a great huff, seeming to try and get a hold of himself again… he wasn’t sure how well he managed, and couldn’t help but tense nervously when the big mech spoke again.

“At Sinner’s Pit? You told me you wanted to have a sparkling but that you were denied because of your cast?” The red optics dimmed a little when Optimus jerkily shook his head, not remembering any of this. 

“Too much high grade, frag! I am sorry, I am more sorry then I can ever express… Primus be my witness! I made you say yes to bonding me…” Whimpering, he brought his hands up and tried to hide his faceplates away, unable to take all of it in. He had agreed to what? With… but that was insane! 

“Sorry, lovely one, please… you seemed so focused, so not drunk. And I wanted you, just as much as my twin wanted your friend. How could we refuse when we could all have what we desired most?” 

“This makes no sense! I don’t even know who you are but you are high cast, why would you want me…” It was a wail, thin and distressed and partially wordless, it only cut off because Megatron ended it with a fierce kiss. 

“Because you are beautiful, because the casts were never meant to work like this…. Because you spent one dark cycle with me and made me fall utterly irrevocably in love with you.” He had no answer for that, and less of a voice to give any he might have found. Megatron did not let go of him. The kiss became nibbles to his neck and shoulders, moved further down his chassis and reminded him of memories he only half had. 

It was maddening and perfect! It was more then he could handle, until his first overload at hands and glossa… 

After that he felt like someone drowning, clinging to the only thing that kept him above water. Megatron’s great chassis covering his own with more care then anyone besides Rodimus had ever shown him.

* * *

“Ratbat… come here! Come here… oh yes! That’s a good little scraplet.” First Aid gave the triumphant mechling a goodie and smiled at Optimus where he was lying against a minor mountain of pillows, cube in hand. 

“He is certainly a fast one, your Ratbat… then again so is his sire.” Sending the swell on the former inlay artist’s abdominal armor a significant glance, the medic smirked and bent to tickle the sparkling. He was rewarded by a shriek of high pitched laughter. 

“Haha… you can be glad he is so fast, I never got around looking for another medic after all.” Sticking his glossa out at First Aid, since Ratbat was not looking at him right now, Optimus teased back before huffing happily. 

Things were not as he had imagined them, how could he had ever imagined such luxury?, but they were good… perfect even…

“Optimus! Where… oh, here, hello you two. Woops, three, hello First Aid!” Rodimus stuck his head though the open door and grinned. Not a moment later he was preceded by a healthy little mechling as they joined the happy trio. The flame colored mech was happily carrying again, though not nearly as heavily as Optimus yet. 

No… 

It was not what he had imagined, it was better!

**Author's Note:**

> This is a gift for the artist megop_murr_miay (LJ)/Murr-Miay (DA) 
> 
> Made for [Party](http://murr-miay.deviantart.com/art/Party-119380568)
> 
> Beta  
> AKzeal


End file.
